Page 43 of Unmade

I smirked. “Douglas Fuller and Jasper Davies?”

He inclined his head and tapped the counter he stood by. “Let’s see what you picked.”

I handed him the pizza and watched him unbox it, and it just occurred to me now that the last thing he probably wanted was to babysit me. He must have a million things on his mind, because shit had sure happened tohim. He’d discovered he had a target on his back for some reason.

“Do you know who came after you?” I asked quietly. “Is it about your brother?”

He furrowed his brow and flicked me a brief glance.

I figured it was best to elaborate. “Tanner may have mentioned it’s still an active case and that the guys who killed your brother were never caught.”

He sighed and placed the pizza in the oven. “And Tanner probably heard it from Finnian, who heard it from someone else.”

I shrugged. I wouldn’t know.

What I had learned, however, was that Hillcroft was at the top of the secrecy game only when it mattered. Assignments and such—impossible to get info on if you didn’t have clearance. Same with names and sensitive information. But in the super-short time I’d been here, every visit to the cafeteria, I’d overheard operators, both senior and junior, discuss rumors, coworkers, and well-known events.

I guessed it was the result of a field in which operators were trained to seek intel as much as they were trained to keep secrets. The line between gossiping and keeping themselves informed was extremely thin, and they were dancing all over it.

“The motherfucker who broke in to my place tonight works for a Karl Hahn—his organization. One of his goons had my brother killed,” Beckett confirmed. “It was just another henchman. My brother’s death wasn’t some elaborate hit. He got in the way.”

Man, that sucked. “I’m sorry. Whatever I can do to help, count me in. But I guess there isn’t much I can say that the passport won’t reveal. I did hear he spoke German with an accent…”

He nodded absently. “Right. He was born in Stuttgart—mother’s German, dad’s Iraqi.”

Yeah, okay. So I really had nothing useful to add to that investigation.

I frowned and leaned back against one of the counters. What else could I do to help? If they knew where Beckett lived, was his family safe? Did anyone need protection?

“What about your family?” I wondered. “Do they need to be watched? I can volunteer when I’m not studying.”

He mirrored my stance and leaned back against the counter, and he smiled faintly and folded his arms over his chest loosely. “Don’t be in such a rush to work in the field, Leighton. Your training has just begun.”

He was right, obviously. I should just be grateful he didn’t point out I’d be a horrible security guard without proper training. Good aim wasn’t everything.

I blew out a breath and felt the need to confess something. “Judging by how Coach and Operator Rose behaved earlier—like they were waiting for me to fall apart—maybe there’s something wrong with me. What happened tonight just made me feel good. I felt like I finally did something that mattered.”

He hummed. “I did notice your mood has improved.”

Well, yeah!

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, pushing away from the counter again. “My sister will, in fact, have protection from now on. So will my mother. It’s primarily a precaution, because we don’t believe the Hahns know too much about my background. Evidence points to them striking at the first lead. Somehow, they figured out my name and address, and they sent someone to take care of me. Had they known that building is usually packed with operators, they would’ve sent an entire crew. They would’ve put more thought into the gig. Instead, they sent one skinny little dick who’s currently crying his eyes out for his mother upstairs.”

I snorted in amusement.

“But that doesn’t mean shit’s safe,” he went on. “Even though my identity isn’t a secret, I’m not easily found, so they must’ve done part of their homework right. So…while we investigate how they could’ve tracked me down, Hillcroft will be my residence. More than that, I’ll be bringing in my niece. And if you wanna help me and get a taste of the shit we put junior operators through, you’re welcome to be her escort around Hillcroft a couple hours every day.”

Whoa, really? I bet most guys would balk at being a babysitter, but not me. It was a foot in the door, a way to show my superiors I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I’d always get exciting assignments. Whether I was escorting a diplomat through a combat zone or I was babysitting Operator Beckett’s niece during an unsafe time didn’t matter much to me.

“How old is she?” I asked.

“Eight,” he answered. Damn, that was young. “Vince—my brother—brought her around plenty before he died. She knows her way around and loves Danny and Em. They’ll likely watch her when you’re busy studying. And she’ll be with me the rest of the time, of course.”

“What about her mom?”

He let out a breath. “She died giving birth to her.”

Fuck. So the girl didn’t have any parents left at all.

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